


Exchange Of Blue

by xof1013



Category: Queer as Folk (UK)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-28
Updated: 2010-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-11 07:13:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xof1013/pseuds/xof1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A healing touch turns into so much more….</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exchange Of Blue

**Author's Note:**

> The fic started out as an answer to Alexis' desperate need for more Stuart and Vince. So it is for her. However, it is dedicated to our luvly Margo on her Birthday. Happy B-day, lady luv. Hugs…..

"Exchange Of Blue"  
by  
Xof

(March 8, 2003)

 

"You're a right bastard."

"There's a certain certificate my parents acquired some years back that belays that statement, Vince."

"Oh ha ha. Now would you get off me." Vince's tone was filled with frustration. Duly deserved vehemence shooting through each syllable as he tried once again to shift Stuart off his back. The motion caused him to wince, his next breath escaping in a hiss. "Oh, fuck." Major crick in his neck and shoulders; the pain coursed through his body in a sharp stab.

Could his morning – okay, looking at the clock on the side table he'd have to concede to noon – wakeup call, get any worse? He'd had a shit night. Another…. With some twat who he'd conceded to taking home only after consuming too much beer – Stuart having left ages ago; who'd ended up standing in amazement at Vince's Red Planet videos like a kid who hadn't seen a lollipop for two years. Ten seconds flat and the night became some sad-sack tragedy; the bloke watching a marathon and Vince passing out on the sofa. No shag in site, and a bummed back. Which presently had an Irishman plastered to it….

A wiggily one at that.

"Ow, ow… Please, Stuart. Stop making it worse." Vince rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand, squeezing his eyes shut against the light of day shining through the windows. Hangover happiness….

Stuart sat back on his knees, still astride Vince's bum. Grinning at how Vince looked. The man's hair was wild, spiked and a mess. His face stubbled, though a bit pale. Vince had been sprawled on his stomach across the sofa when Stuart had let himself into the flat, his friend's head turned at an odd angle. Vince's shirt had been pulled up during the night, leaving his lower back exposed – the line of his spine a calling card for Stuart to pounce his good-morning hello. The temptation to tickle and be all together annoying, had been too much to pass up on. That is until Vince let out a groan and a curse, pain more than evident in his voice.

"Shit, Stuart. It hurts." The 'it' being his neck, shoulders, head – pretty much his whole body was at war with him.

The irony was that Stuart was usually the one complaining about his bad lot, and plaintively blocking out the fact that he'd been the cause of his own troubles. It was rare that Stuart saw Vince in such shape. Stuart frowned at the thought. He realized that Vince hid away in times like this, tending to steer clear of Stuart's place on horrible morning-after's. Always the caretaker, but never the cared for. Stuart didn't like the feeling of that reality as it hit him in the gut. 'I am such a twat.'

Not making a move to leave, Stuart instead watched as he pressed his hands lightly over the expanse of Vince's exposed lower back. A touch, a pause – one moment and then those hands traveled up with the lightest of contact, feeling the tension increasing in Vince's muscles the further his fingers reached. Under the shirt, skin warm…. Stuart watched himself touching the skin; saw the shirt pushed up as he continued. It was almost like he was watching from a distance, but still feeling the touch – the sensation through his fingers and his palms. Only to be jerked back from the focus-encompassing view by Vince's hesitant whisper.

"Uhm, 's cold." The tone registered as tight, as though Vince were gritting his teeth against sound.

Stuart didn't raise his eyes, gaze still locked on his hands resting over Vince's upper back . . . just inches from the offending riot of muscles at Vince's neck. He murmured, "What?" Almost dumbly, except it was Stuart Alan Jones – so intent-on-things-other-than-reason was more to the cause of his quiet afterthought of a question.

"Your hands…." Vince winced as Stuart unthinkingly curled his fingers in response, just before lifting them from Vince's skin. Breathing out a sigh, Vince moaned as Stuart moved to get off him. He didn't know what was more aggravating given the situation, the initial spasm along his shoulders whenever he tried to move or the ache that now existed further down between his thighs at having been touched so softly by his friend. It also called his attention to another matter that needed seeing too….

Muttering a curse under his breath, Vince slowly shifted off the sofa – his shoulders hunched and head down as he took a moment to catch his balance while fighting his headache and the crick that shattered any residual after-affects of Stuart's hands on his body. His tongue felt too big for his mouth, the texture of grass. Feeling an utter wretch.

He stumbled passed Stuart, who was now standing quietly biting his lip and watching Vince slowly make his miserable way to the bedroom and through to the loo. Stuart shook his head as he heard the door shut with a decided lack of slam. Leave it to Vince to be self-conscious enough through the pain to close the door before taking a piss.

Stuart shrugged out of his jacket and kicked off his shoes. Soaked feet treading to the kitchen, he snatched open the cabinet door that housed Vince's medicine supply – such as it was. Amazing how little his, 'I always think I have cancer,' hypochondriac had on hand. Stuart had always found it funny that Vince kept stuff like aspirin in the kitchen, rather than in the bathroom. Vince's theory was, who wanted some shag raffling through his privacy either before or after shagging by having easy access to his things. As such, no painkillers or the rare prescriptions ever made it passed his bedroom door.

Palming the pills he knew Vince would need, Stuart pushed up the sleeves of his red jumper and filled a glass with water. He walked to the bathroom door, and pushed it open without announcement. His sudden entrance startled Vince, who jerked in surprise and then gasped as pain traveled through his brain. He couldn't talk because he was brushing his teeth, but Stuart could tell by the way Vince's fingers gripped the sink basin that he'd pissed Vince off again.

Course the view that met his eyes upon entering made him not care in the least.

Vince Tyler, in nothing but black boxer briefs. Tight boxer briefs. Damn….

Hutched over the sink, holding onto it for support – but still….

Practically naked and flushed in reaction to Stuart's sudden entrance. Stuart's whistle echoed off the white tiles of the small room.

Rinsing his mouth once more, Vince growled out, "Shut it." He was embarrassed, but it paled to his body's inner screaming. Trying to stand up right was a struggle, but he managed – making sure not to look in Stuart's direction as he did.

Eyes playing at will, Stuart stood for a bit. He wanted Vince to know he was watching him. The red was traveling down Vince's chest as the seconds passed, and Stuart hummed a sigh as he saw Vince's nipples harden.

Another groan sounding as he tried to turn his back to Stuart, Vince reached up to rub his neck and shoulder.

Stuart entered the room, pushing the pills into Vince's other hand. "Take them." Offering up the glass when Vince did as asked, Stuart turned on the water in Vince's porcelain tub. He let it run hot until the water was steaming the surface of the room tiles. He grabbed a towel and began twisting it into a coil; tied it in a knot and then put it into the water.

"What's that for?" Vince's voice was tired and low, barely heard above the running rush of the water.

"You'll see." Stuart sat on the edge of the tub. He was getting hot in his jumper and black pants. But it didn't matter. "You're getting in, that's what." At Vince's frown, Stuart walked to him. He tugged a playful tease at the waist of Vince's underwear. "Naked."

"I am no…." His protest was silenced as Stuart made to pull them down, Vince barely managed to grab hold before Stuart made any progress. "Stop it."

Stuart was enjoying Vince's desperation, but he had pity when his friend gasped in pain again. Tussling was not something they could do until Vince was better. The until part wasn't a question in Stuart's mind. He didn't waste a thought for questions or answers. He was all about doing….

He pressed against Vince's side, circling his arms around his friend's waist as he leaned in to speak in Vince's ear. Voice a gently command, a teasing breath. "You're getting in, and that's that. The muscles need to loosen up before you'll feel better. Liquid heat'll do the trick, and then…."

Vince was flustered, dazed by Stuart's being so near. "Th, uhm. Then?"

Stuart grinned, pulling back until he had Vince's eyes locked with his. "One step at a time, and then will be now." He pointed to the tub. "In with you."

A moment, then two…. It stretched out, and then Vince went to the tub. He looked to be contemplating his next move, until Stuart's voice sounded from behind him. "No getting in with those on, it's not allowed."

His sigh barely audible, Vince swallowed. He was not going to be shown up by not doing as Stuart asked, but he knew it was a catch-22. Don't and Stuart would win. Do it, and Stuart still won. Bugger. Vince turned more to the side, making sure that he wasn't able to see Stuart, and with a quick jerk the underwear hit the floor.

With a determination to get it over with quick, Vince stepped into the tub – hissing as the hot water covered his body up to the chest. He drew his knees up, and laid back. The tub was too small for him to get completely covered up to the neck, and he was in no condition to twist about until the water could reach the areas that hurt the worst. So he sat with his head against the back of the tub, arms crossed over his lap. And still, he wouldn't look at Stuart.

Letting out the breath he'd sucked in when Vince had chucked the boxers, Stuart shifted his stance as his body began to show its approval of the view. Damn, but Vince had a fantastic arse. Strong legs, round cheeks and pale skin. He watched as Vince stepped into the tub, catching a glimpse of the balls between his thighs. After it was done, Stuart found that he'd wrapped his arms around his own waist . . . the hug an attempt to forestall any move to reach out and touch what he'd seen.

Time to step up the care before his good intentions flew the flat.

Stuart walked to the side of the tub, making it unavoidable for Vince to see him. Very deliberately, Stuart leaned down and dipped his fingers into the water. He moaned at the water's hot caress, trailing circles round Vince's upraised knees. "Nice…." A small grin starting, a naughty light in his eyes – and Stuart felt Vince watching him. Frozen in the heated tub.

Biting his own bottom lip and then licking slowly over its surface, Stuart pushed his hand down into the water. And Vince's gasped.

"Easy, Vince. Easy…." Stuart murmured, ignoring the feeling of the water as it soaked the arm of his jumper. He knew that Vince had thought he was going to touch him. And Stuart did want that. But they still needed to see about easing Vince's pain. And besides, Stuart wasn't about to end what he knew he wanted to have happen in so quick a move.

He reached in further and found the tied towel at the foot of the tub. He slowly drew it out of the water and untied the hot, water soaked material. Stretching the length out, Stuart wrapped it around Vince's neck and lower back. He laughed as Vince groaned, watching as his friend shut his eyes in pleasure. It was a small trick, but one that Stuart enjoyed himself. He was glad to have thought of it for Vince.

"Bloody hell, that's good."

"Fucking brilliant's more like. Now just lie back and close your eyes. The pills will help in a bit."

All Vince could do was moan a thanks as he did as Stuart asked. Head back and eyes shut as his body soaked in the heat, his muscles welcoming the comfort and aid. Stuart blinked after a bit, realizing that he'd never stood up. He'd been lost in the view of the man below him, lost in the sight of Vince's body in the water. Especially in the moment when Vince forgot to be self-conscious and unthinkingly let his legs fall apart. Fuck…. But he was beautiful.

Shaking his head, Stuart drew back – his jumper a mess. He stood and drew it over his head, only to find that Vince was peaking through his lashes. Satisfied to know he was being watched, Stuart ran his wet hand down his chest as he let the jumper fall to the floor. Red sprawled in glaring contrast on the white tile. His nipples tightened, and Stuart took full advantage to roll his shoulders and neck so that his tight slim frame was on its best display. Serves Vince right for looking like THAT, under his clothes. Sneaking bastard.

Left in nothing but his black trousers, Stuart toed off his soaks. Adding them to the pile, he purposefully turned and bent to put the clothing in the clothes bin. His arse high and in Vince's direction. Water shifted, and Stuart knew Vince was affected by the pose. Rising up, he looked at Vince but his friend had closed his eyes again – feigning repose. Though the knees were back together, modestly hiding his response.

Stuart mouthed the word, 'twat,' and then left the room. He had plans to lie out….

* * * * * * *

"Perfect…." Stuart pulled out his prize in triumph. He'd had to pilfer practically every drawer in Vince's room to find it, but he'd been a man with a mission.

The massage oil had never been used.

"Pathetic." Stuart laughed quietly. He'd been the one to give the oil to Vince. Ages ago. It was a special blend that Stuart had had made when he'd gone to the parfumier's for his own unique cologne. A matching scent to tell the truth, subtlety done so that the fragrance was only released as it warmed with use. At the time, Stuart had thought it would be a great way to treat Vince since he'd pulled a muscle from some fracas at Harlo's. It was only after he'd given it, that Stuart realized he'd set it up so that whenever it was used – Vince would be covered in Stuart's brand. In his scent….

Thinking about it now, Stuart was glad Vince had saved it. He didn't like the idea of having that shared with some random bloke. And the thought that Vince may have used it with Cameron was more repulsive than Stuart wanted to dwell on. Still, the seal was in tact. And he was determined to break it with Vince today.

He jerked the duvet off, and covered Vince's bed with an extra sheet. Throwing the pillows off onto the discarded covering, Stuart looked at the mattress. He never stopped looking at it even as he slowly opened his belt buckle and pulled the black leather from around his waist. Reaching down, Stuart touched his erection – outlining it through the thick fabric of his trousers. Then one button popped and zipper pulled, the material fell down his legs until he stood in nothing but his own boxer briefs. His cock stood out in a proud outline, held tight to his body by the stricture of the steal gray material. He was tempted to take them off as well, but no. He'd leave that till later.

He lay down on the bed, closing his eyes as he waited. Vince needed to stay in the tub for a few more minutes, so his muscles would be as loose was possible. Stuart planned to do the rest needed to ease the ache. Both aches…he thought as he ran his hands over his stomach and up his chest. He tangled one hand in his hair as the other continued to travel the length of his body. Circles over his inner thighs, strokes over his hips and abdomen. Never going back to his groin, he played the waiting game with himself. The hand in his hair, he used mirror what he knew Vince would enjoy. The touch would feel even better when Vince was doing it for him.

Stuart rolled over onto his stomach, arching like a cat as he wallowed in the scent of Vince that still clung to the bedding. It was faint, but still there. He shivered as the knowledge of what he was doing washed over him in a wave. He was hot for Vince, was bound and determined to have him. And acknowledging it didn't make him stop. He was going to have Vince Tyler, and it would change…. Everything. Knowing that before it happened. Amazingly enough, it made him want it even more. Especially if having this, being like this, wanting this was his pay off for following through. "About fucking time."

Stuart checked the alarm clock. Yeah, it was time. For them both….

* * * * * * *

Vince was still lying with his head back and eyes closed. Breathing deeply, on the verge of sleep. He shifted when he heard Stuart come back into the room.

"Open your eyes, Vince." Stuart waited until Vince did so, watching as the blue eyes widened at his lack of clothing. Then he sat on the edge of the tub, dipping his fingers into the water once more. Still warm, but not as hot. Recovery in progress…. Not that he thought Vince was thinking about any discomfort as he stared at Stuart's body, mouth slightly opened in surprise.

Reaching in, Stuart ran his fingers lightly up the shin of Vince's raised leg. He stopped at the knee, raising the hand until he licked his fingers while holding Vince's gaze. Watching him as Stuart kissed the taste of Vince away from his own hand.

If Vince had been capable of saying anything in that moment, Stuart was sure it would have been his trademark. 'Oh, my god.'

Stuart leaned down, taking the towel from round Vince's neck – dropping it into the water. Standing up, he looked at Vince . . . letting him see his body, the bulge in his shorts and the look in his eyes. A serious expression on his face, Stuart offered Vince his hand. Holding it out in a gesture of trust and need.

Vince stared for a moment, locked in the view as the meaning of that offered hand hit home. He was to decide. For Stuart already had…. As was often the case for them together, it was what hadn't been said that meant the most. Didn't need to be, when it was there in the exchange of blue.

Vivid in their eyes…..

Taking a breath, Vince reached for Stuart's hand. Palm to palm, he let himself be pulled up. Pulled over and out, and as he went – he hoped the look in Stuart's eyes would never change.

He stood, so still. Breathing deeply, trying to concentrate as Stuart took another towel and brushed his skin down. But it was a struggle as his heart pounded in his chest, ringing in his ears.

Stuart made quick work of drying Vince's body, knowing that if he touched too much or lingered too long – they'd never get out of the room. And he intended this as only a means to their later play. He needed Vince on the bed that he'd left, needed to make sure he'd done what he could to ease the hurt before they crossed fully over the line. He took Vince's hand and went into the bedroom.

"Lie down, on your stomach. I need to see about your neck." Stuart voice was pitched low, thickened accent more apparent as he watched Vince do asked. He watched as his friends shifted on the bed, making himself as comfortable as he could with the telltale signs of his arousal trapped under his body.

Climbing onto the bed, Stuart straddled Vince's thighs once again. He heard the murmur that was almost lost in the sheets as Vince buried his face, the soft moan. It went straight to his stomach, the muscles clenching in his gut as he silently echoed the appreciative sound of satisfaction. He could feel the light hairs on Vince's legs tickling, scratching softly against his inner thighs as he leaned over the man. Oh, yesss….

"Ahhh, oh." Vince gasped out as Stuart began moving his hands over the back of his neck and shoulders. The water had done a good job to help them loosen up, but he was still tight and Stuart's touch was enough to make him brace against further pain. Pain that didn't come….

"Shhh, 'm only checking." Stuart eased, his touch gentle as he found the knots one at a time. When he was satisfied that he'd located the problem, Stuart opened the massage oil and poured out a little to warm in his hands. The subtle scent passed into the air as his hands worked together, and Vince lifted his head.

"That's…."

Stuart interrupted with a chuckle, "Yeah, it is. It's me." He leaned in and whispered in Vince's ear. "It'll be me all over you." The double-entendre blown in a hot breath across Vince's ear.

Fisting his hands in the sheet, Vince gulped and dropped his head back onto the bed. The very thought of it was enough to overwhelm his senses. Dazed by the possibility, the promise.

Stuart brought his warm slick hands down along the column of Vince's neck, running his fingers over his shoulders to spread the oil. Once it was evenly distributed, he added pressure – circling his hands, the palms over Vince's skin. As he worked, Stuart noticed Vince's breathing grow deeper. Occasional moans and gasps sounded as Stuart began kneading the kinks at the top of Vince's spine, letting his fingers playfully fall alone the length of it until they skirted over the curves of his arse. Dipping a tip at the top of the crease, Stuart reveled in the breathless shifting the move caused in Vince.

It was a battle of self-will not to keep staring at Vince's bum, the cheeks full and driving him mad. But then after many minutes filled with Vince's ragged response and the way he arched into a touch that felt so good – the kneading hand at his neck and the stirring caress of fingers over his bum, it was too much for Stuart to retain his good intentions.

Fighting back the sudden desire to pounce, Stuart bent slowly. So very slowly, as he let Vince feel the shifting of his body weight over Vince's own. Stuart grinned at the gasp he'd caused. He was practically covering Vince from head to toe, atop him. Hissing himself as his hard-on pressed against Vince's behind, Stuart bemoaned the fact that he still had on his underwear. But he knew that would change soon….

The oil had been well absorbed from Stuart's having worked it into Vince's skin, but enough remained that when he lay himself on Vince's back – Stuart shivered at the soft slick warmth of the man's skin against his chest. Inhaling the scent, the two of them mixed – Stuart and Vince. Stuart's gut filled with a heat so sweet, he never wanted it to cool.

And Vince… He was still, holding himself as anchor for Stuart's weight – baring it with a breathless yearning to feel even more. "Off…" Voice muffled, and thick with arousal.

Stuart buried his face against the base of Vince's neck, frowning as he bit at the man's ear. "Like hell."

Vince laughed, and the feel of it tickled Stuart's stomach as Vince's back shook. Rolling his head as a test that the soreness was almost gone, Vince lifted his head and looked back at Stuart. "I meant, take 'em off."

Those eyes, that mouth… Those words.

Stuart pounced.

His mouth took what they both knew was his…. Vince's kiss. The hunger a possession on both their parts, as each man battled into the touch and voiced their pleasure at having found what they knew they would. Found what had so long been tempted with, teased at and now realized.

Never giving up their kiss, Stuart rolled himself over onto the bed – taking Vince with him until he was the one being pressed into the mattress. He grabbed Vince's hand in his, bringing them down to his waist. "Vince." The name a raspy command for Vince to show him, to do what they both needed him to do. Stuart felt the tug as Vince worked to rid him of the gray cloth, and he circled Vince's hips with his legs as he pulled himself up enough to ease the way for them to clear his arse. Letting his legs drop again, Stuart threw his head back and panted out a laugh as Vince raked his teeth down Stuart's throat – the move paralleling the rough way Vince jerked the material down Stuart's legs.

The aggression was a surprise, but one that called to Stuart's nature. He giggled out a short laugh. "Animal."

Vince pushed Stuart back again, holding him down with his body. Both men groaned into the next kiss at the feel of being skin to skin. Stuart raked his nails lightly through the oil on Vince's back, the pressure increasing as Vince circled his hips into the cradle of Stuart's groin. They strained together, touching all that they could. Stuart's hands grabbed onto Vince's driving hips, holding them together as they continued to pant into each other's mouth.

"So…ah, so good. Vince, ahh." Stuart fought not to close his eyes as the pressure and the pleasure built. He wanted to watch him, to feel those eyes touching him like hands to skin – their intensity darkening them to a grayish blue.

"Stuart…" Vince's tone was pleading as he lifted up onto his knees, separating them so it wouldn't end. At Stuart's growl of frustration, Vince yanked him up as well until they were both upright with Stuart on his knees between Vince's spread thighs.

Stuart shuddered, a quicksilver surge running through him at being manhandled by Vince. For all their similarity of height and in most ways, size – Vince was still of a stronger build than Stuart. It was a revelation to see him exert that strength now. Stuart playfully struggled against Vince's hold, until his friend had him caught in the trap of his arms.

Not to be outdone, Stuart played dirty and wedged a hand between them to encircle their cocks together in his hand. Vince whimpered at the twist and pull, diving back in to capture Stuart's lips as their bodies began to arch together.

Stuart leaned back into the support of Vince's arms, trusting him to hold them up as he straddled Vince's lap. He felt Vince's strong arms shift to hold him – one hand across his back with fingers buried in his hair and the other across his lower back, fingers clutching at his arse. Looking into Vince's eyes, Stuart shifted his gaze from Vince's mouth to his eyes. His mouth, his eyes. His mouth…. "Don't you want to taste, Vince?" They both knew he wasn't talking about another kiss.

His whole expression echoing 'oh my god,' Vince licked his lips as he closed his eyes. Stuart could feel the shaking of Vince's arms, the strain he went through as he tried to maintain Stuart's support. And Stuart couldn't give an inch in the battle to have Vince do it to him…. "Your mouth, Vince. Your tongue. I can feeeeeeeel it, want it."

He'd hardly finished his husky murmur, before he was being dipped and pushed onto the bed.

"Ohhh, fuck." The words were a grunt as Stuart jerked and drowned in the fire of Vince's mouth covering his cock. Then all was sensation and mindless, illicit suction. Teasing licks, kisses…they flew out the window as Vince set a rhythm that stunned Stuart to the core. This was Vince, his Vince. Sucking him off with enough talent and enthusiasm that Stuart was on the brink of going mad across the sheets of his friend's bed.

And as Stuart's whole body threatened to seize at the brink, Vince pulled away from him. Eyes wild and lips wet, he dictated a choice that snapped Stuart's control. "Fuck me. Have to, have to fuck me…." The words a shaky ramble as Vince fell to the bed and pulled Stuart over him. "Have to feel you…."

Plastered they laid, Stuart rasping a breathy, "Inside, yeah?" To which Vince nodded, flushing a deeper shade as he answered in a plea, "Inside me, yeah."

Stuart lifted up, sitting back as he ran his hands over Vince's body. The rapid rise and fall of the chest under his fingers caused him to suck in a breath himself, even as he watched his own fingers slid down moist flesh until they came to rest at Vince's hips. Stuart bent over Vince's body, doubling up as his mouth blew hot air over Vince's standing cock. His tongue trailed a slow, slick line up the shaft from curls to crown before he dipped his head and took the full length inside himself. Vince cried out softly, muttering his pleasure as he cradled Stuart's head in his hands.

Stuart spread Vince's legs, holding the thighs open as he bobbed up and down. Fuck, but he tasted so damn good – Vince's pre-come coating Stuart's tongue on his last pass up – on the final swirl over the mushroom head now completely free from its cover, foreskin having been drawn back tight by Vince's arousal. Lifting his head, Stuart licked up Vince's stomach and chest – a straight line back to his mouth as they kissed and shared the salt of Vince off of Stuart's tongue.

"Drawer…." Vince whispered into their kiss. He'd spread his legs fully so that Stuart was between them, and was running his hands down Stuart's back to his bum – trying to draw him in.

Reaching into the side table drawer, Stuart snagged the lube and a condom. His hands shook just a bit as he tore the packet open and covered his dark blooded shaft. He warmed the lube between his fingers and then as they shared a look, Stuart pressed a finger inside of Vince. Watching, ever watching – Stuart took in every expression and response that skirted across Vince's face, passed his eyes. Then two were in and Vince was fisting the sheets, moaning. Twisting them inside, pressing against…. "Ahh, oh god. Stuart please." The perfect nub, that spot.

Stroking himself, Stuart coated his cock and then crouched over Vince on all fours. Holding those eyes, he pressed, pushed . . . came home within and was gifted by the stricture of enclosing walls. Inside Vince, a part of him. He shivered as he heard Vince groan, as he felt himself shake. Soooo much more. He felt so much more. A new turn made on the road they'd transversed together.

Locked, joined – Stuart didn't move. He looked at Vince; watching him as his mouth opened on a gasp. Watching him as he took in the feel of having Stuart move first in, then out. And then all was thrust and pull, Stuart's body driving into Vince as he arched into the possession.

Stuart shifted the angle, pressing into Vince with a welcomed roughness that thrilled them both. Hitting Vince just right, until the room filled with echoed grunts and moaning cries. Stuart grit his teeth at the friction, the pressure – the clench of Vince's body holding him tight. Their bodies slid together, against each other as they sweated in their pleasure. Each man shown, pale to tan as they rode the wave of need. Limbs entwined and mouths parting only for breath, to return again.

"Fuck, the way you feel…." Stuart spoke against Vince's mouth, moaning as he felt the man squeeze him from the inside. A torment of bliss that quaked his reality and tore him from his fears.

Vince writhed into the relentless, and now progressively unstable rhythm of their joined bodies. Repeating Stuart's name again and again. Each time a whisper, a call. An answer.

Reaching up, Vince buried his hand in Stuart's curls. With the other, he pressed between them and raked his fingers in Stuart's curls below. His hand followed the rhythm of Stuart's body, rolling against his own balls as Vince gasped into their next kiss. A sound that changed to a cry as Stuart took Vince's cock in hand, the sudden grip and stroke slamming Vince back into his body with an awareness that crumbled his ability to hold on. He shivered and arched, grunting as his body dissolved in a mind field of sensation. Stuart's name all he knew as he came.

For he'd already forgotten his own….

Stuart bucked, falling forward as he lost his strength – his body throbbing as it answered Vince's ending with its own. He bit his lip to keep from screaming, unconscious that it muffled the shout not a bit. Hot liquid over his chest, his cock covered in its latex sheath with the same. And he knew he'd lost the race he'd been running with himself. Safely the loser of a winning game. He'd never been so glad to be wrong. Not when this, them sated and breathless together, was so right.

The room settled as they lay tangled and wrecked, breathing coming to an ease. And there was Stuart holding on, no pressure to get up or shove off. There was Vince, touching non-stop – assured by the freedom to have his hands on Stuart without any hesitation or fear to stop him. Stuart smiled, lips curving against Vince's chest as Vince buried his face in the ebony mess atop Stuart's head. The smile turned into a straight out laugh when Vince broke the silence….

Voice cracking, worn by use – and the sounding of Stuart's name. "And they say the cure will kill you."

Lifting his head, Stuart found Vince grinning. "Twat." He nuzzled Vince's ear, growling as he bit at the lobe. "Are you criticizing my healing touch?"

Shifting with a squirm as Stuart's mouth tickled down his neck, Vince gasped as the motion freed him from Stuart's cock. Reaching down, he cradled Stuart's flesh in his hand . . . stripping the cover from the sensitized length and cupping the warm weight of it in his palm as Stuart sighed. He pulled Stuart back up, kissing him hotly. The touch turned to savoring until they sighed at the break. Vince replied, "You give new meaning to house calls." His voice drifting off, quiet as they rested – each too tired to worry. Too reassured by the result to question the could-go-wrongs….

Stuart hummed his amusement, sprawled over Vince's chest as his eyes closed. He didn't want to think, wasn't capable in the there and then. Vince felt too good, the soft bedding all around and his own body warm and lack with spent desire. No guard walls up, no need. He relaxed and fell into deep sleep. Vince following him in this as in all things.

Two men on rumpled sheets, both a mess. Both never more beautiful.

Requited….

finis


End file.
